


Grell Sutcliff: Love and Death

by Mme_Sutcliff



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Autopsies, Blood, F/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mme_Sutcliff/pseuds/Mme_Sutcliff
Summary: Grell Sutcliff the Grim Reaper crosses paths with Dr. Anya Kensington, a pathologist.  On different sides of death, they quickly realize each has something unique to offer the other which results in a romantic bond.





	1. The Pathologist and the Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> I see Grell as male, and despite him having a strong affection for males I didn't get a 100% gay vibe from him, so I just had this cute idea to explore that. Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part!
> 
> Anya was created mostly in the image of the Evil Queen/Regina from Once Upon a Time. Grell has sometimes reminded me of Rumplestiltskin, so you may see him say "Dearie" a time or two. :)

_**pa·thol·o·gist (n):**_ **a medical doctor who specializes in the study of human disease from conception to demise; pursues cause of death most notably by autopsy.**

**_Shi·ni·gam·i (n):_ A god of Death who serves to peacefully harvest the souls of the living at the point of their fatal demise.  See also: Grim Reaper.**

Dr. Anya Kensington had come from noble blood, but she always held a predilection for science, most notably medicine.  So despite the fact that she didn’t need to work to sustain a decent living, she chose to spend some of her fortune on a medical education.  Pathology became her chosen specialty because death was something that both frightened and intrigued her.  Anya believed the more she studied her fear, the more she could understand it thereby diminishing its fright.  There was also a deeper, subconscious pull to the concept due to her lineage—but for now let’s just say the pursuit of death was fated to course through her blood-filled veins.

It was a late night at the hospital morgue where she was working alone, hunched over a completely open torso of a deceased patient.  Elbows deep inside his cavity, she gracefully cut out each organ in the same order and manner as was routine for her.  The chest plate was always a difficult place to start as the autopsy tools of early 20th century England were not near as sophisticated as they are today.  She had to use a manual bone saw to cut through the sternum and reveal the heart and lungs, and the collar bone always gave her the most trouble.  Dr. Kensington enjoyed her work thoroughly, for she never felt more alive than when she was cutting another human open to reveal the awesome beauty and wonder of their anatomy.  However the fact remained that it was laborious work that could be quite exhausting at times.  

Meanwhile, down the halls of the hospital floor another dance of death was taking place but the scene was quite different.  A patient had suddenly passed away after surgery due to a post-op infection, which was very common of the time.  A slender, statuesque man with a mane of luxurious red hair running down the length of his back stood over the patient.  He donned a white dress shirt accented with sleeve garters on each arm and a red and white Western-style bow tie.  Over the shirt was a brown waistcoat trimmed in black, and charcoal pants ran down his long, slender legs that ended at his red and black heeled boots.  Hanging from the left pocket of his pants was a metal chain that connected several oval-shaped lockets.  His most signature piece however was his long, flowing red coat that rested just below his shoulders, complete with a black bow on its lower back.  He leaned downward over the patient and snarled, showing fang-like, razor sharp teeth.

“Sorry, Darling—it looks like your time is up.  Not even the best medicine can help you escape _**DEATH!**_ ” the man chuckled almost sadistically as he raised an instrument that could only be interpreted as a chainsaw—whose body and handle also donned a bloody crimson—and plunged it straight into the patient’s chest.  Once he did this a bright light came from the open wound and what looked like strips of film began flowing from the body.  For this alluring man was no ordinary man at all, he was a Grim Reaper—a God of Death whose job was to collect the souls of the deceased and review the highlight reels of their lives, known as the _cinematic record_.  The reaper lazily browsed through the film, his chartreuse-phosphorescent eyes seeming unimpressed behind his fashionable red-rimmed glasses accented with a silver chain and a single skull hanging from each side.

“And yet another _dreadfully_ boring life.  No one is going to miss you…” the man sighed, almost annoyed at the task.  Once he snipped the end of the record the bright light faded and the patient rested peacefully in the hospital bed, soul drained away by the reaper in red.  The Death God then consulted a journal, looking to see if there were more souls to collect for the night.

“Oh thank goodness—no overtime for me tonight.  All work and no play makes Grell a dull lady indeed…” he quipped to himself as he scampered down the halls of the dark hospital…

***

He continued down the hospital corridors, skipping and leaping with chainsaw in hand and coat billowing behind him.  He stopped suddenly once he approached a singly-lit room and heard a familiar sound—the distinct rhythm of metal cutting through bone—a top tune on this reaper’s playlist.  He peeked his head in the doorway and saw a slender, majestic woman hunched over the head of a dead body.  The body’s cavity was completely open, organs laid about on the dissecting station and blood decorated the morgue table and surrounding areas.  The woman, Dr. Kensington, also saturated in blood up to her elbows and much of her apron, was taking a saw to the body’s exposed skullcap in an effort to retrieve the patient’s brain.  This was an aesthetic the grim reaper just could not resist.

“My, my…what do we have here?  Just look at you, all covered in pretty red blood…”

Dr. Kensington jumped a little and looked up at the strange figure standing in her morgue doorway.  “Excuse me?  Who are you?  How did you get in here…?”

Grell’s breath was taken away for a brief moment once the doctor looked up at him, revealing her stunning yet familiar red eyes.  Another woman with red eyes, draped in blood over a dead body-- this was a nostalgic scene to the reaper that had quite the effect on him…

_**Madame Red…** _

For Madame Red, aka Dr. Angelina Dalles-Burnett, was a woman for whom Grell made the ultimate sacrifice.  He had become so quickly enchanted by her murderous indiscretions that he gave up nearly everything to become her accomplice, all the while pretending to be her butler.  Reducing himself—a God of Death—to common chores, just for a woman.  But at the time Madame Red was not just any woman to him, she was strong and beautiful draped in the color he fancied most.  He loved her deeply as their romance budded beneath the bloody bath of their victims.

Now standing before him was another woman—another doctor—with red eyes and soaked in blood.  The main physical difference between the two doctors was this one did not have red hair, but long black hair that was worn in a high pony tail, however her ends were stained the same shade of passionate red the reaper adored.  The scene was enough to make him blush if only just a little bit, before he regained his dominant stature.

“I see we’re both working late tonight—I was just working down the hall when I heard the noise coming from this room…”

“Oh…so you work here at the hospital then?  Funny, I’ve never seen you before…and you seem like someone I’d remember…”

“Oh I don’t really work here per _se_ …” he drabbled on.  The doctor noticed he talked a bit strangely—his voice was higher-pitched than the average male and overly dramatic.  “But I had a job tonight.  I was on my way out when I heard you in here—it looks like you could use some help—that pathetic little tool won’t get you anywhere!”

Before the doctor could say anything Grell revved his chainsaw and walked toward the morgue table, ready to cut the body to pieces.  “This is _**DEADLY**_ efficient!”

Dr. Kensington shrieked in terror, thinking the man was headed toward her with the weapon.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??  PLEASE—NO—STOOOP--!”  

She reached for the already bloodied butcher knife on the table and waved it in front of the reaper’s face.  This made Grell frown in confusion, he just wanted to help.

“What’s wrong, Madame?  I am only trying to—“

“WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THAT THING OFF WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU??”

Grell shrugged nonchalantly, not understanding in the least why this woman was so hysterical.  Once he tucked his beloved toy away under his coat, he looked down at the doctor who was frozen aside from panting heavily—bone saw in one hand and a butcher knife in the other.  She glared at the reaper steadfastly, and he met her gaze with an almost innocent confusion.

“Who or what are you…so help me God…” the doctor finally inquired.

Grell stood up proudly and cocked his head as a wide smile crept across his face, flashing his ominous sharp teeth.  “Grell Sutcliff, Reaper Dispatch Association—deadly efficient butler of _**DEATH!**_ ”  He twirled around as his coat gracefully flowed with him, then ended with his “death stance” of pulling his arm in toward his torso and flashing a hand gesture with his ring and middle fingers tucked in toward his palm while the others pointed outward.

Dr. Kensington just looked at him oddly in disbelief.  “A _‘butler of death?’_  What does that even mean?  Did you escape from the psych ward…?”

“Hey, I’m not crazy!  How dare you say such a thing?” Grell pouted.  “Who the hell are you anyway, to be talking to me like that?  Hiding behind this mask—“  

With that, Grell reached out and pulled the surgical mask off of the doctor’s face.  He blushed a little at seeing her porcelain beauty, and it didn’t hurt that some blood had gotten on her face.

The doctor gasped, startled.  However she soon realized that this man, or whatever he was, wasn’t there to hurt her.  This had turned into such a strange night, and by now the scientific curiosity had gotten the best of her so she paused for a moment to observe him.  No longer in fight or flight mode she noticed how striking the man was— with his tall, lean figure, dapper clothing, and long, fiery-red mane.  She had never seen eyes anywhere near that shade of green on any human, and those teeth most definitely couldn’t be human.  Could it be true, could he really be a _**Grim Reaper?**_

“Cat got your tongue, Dearie?  I showed you mine now you show me _yours..!_ ” the reaper demanded, bending at the knees and wagging his behind a bit.  It was enough to make the doctor stifle a small smile to herself.

“I—I’m Doctor Anya Kensington.  I’m a pathologist here.”

“Well, well…Anya Kensington—what a beautiful name!”

“Thank you…” the doctor blushed as the reaper’s eyes sparkled behind his red-rimmed glasses.

“It’s a bit much to say though—I shall call you Kenzy—oh yes Kenzy that’s absolutely delightful for a pretty little thing like you!” The man danced around a little, always so dramatic.

The doctor felt her face get hotter and she fidgeted a little.  What a weird night this had turned out to be, she wasn’t sure what was going on or how to feel.  But she did know that this man before her was actually quite charming in his own way.

“Ahh, G-Grell—was it--?” the doctor sheepishly began to ask, rubbing her head a little.

“Yes Kenzy?” he answered eagerly, his eyes wide and sparkly.

“So what—why the chainsaw…?”

“Ohhh! I’m so glad you asked—I put so much work into modifying it to my perfect specifications…!”  He pulled it out and began waving it around proudly.

“AHHH!  Ahhh okay calm down now—please don’t—just—why…do you have it?”

Grell stopped and looked at the doctor, gave the chainsaw one last twirl in his hands before tucking it away again.

“Why this is my death scythe, _silly woman._  All reapers must have death scythes to capture souls with…don’t you know anything?” he mocked, holding his hand out as if he were looking at his freshly manicured nails despite the fact he was wearing black gloves.

“Death scythe…” Anya muttered, nodding her head, thinking maybe it was she who needed to go to the psych ward.  “Of course.  Well ‘Reaper’ this has been a lot of fun but, I have an autopsy to finish…”

Grell frowned and crossed his arms.  “You don’t believe me, do you?  You know, we’re not all that different you and I.  We’re both in the business of _**DEATH!**_ ”  He cocked another death pose and stuck out his tongue as he leaned in toward the doctor.

At this point Anya was tired and just wanted to go home.  She grinned and nodded a little. “Yes, I suppose that’s true…”

“I will show you my death scythe if you let me do an autopsy with you.  Playing with all of that blood without the guilt of getting in trouble with William…ah!”

“Who’s William?” The doctor immediately regretted the question.

“Oh! He’s my—“

Anya held up her hand. “No—no, no…I don’t want to know.  Just….ok um, sure—it’s a deal, Reaper…”  Anya agreed, mostly just so she could finish her job and go the hell home.

“Oh Kenzy we will have so much fun, you and I!” Grell squealed, scooping the woman up into his arms and squeezing her tightly.  Her eyes widened, shocked at the sudden contact.

“I will be back for you, Darling!” he exclaimed before planting a quick peck on her cheek.  “Ta-ta—bye-byeee…!”

And with that Grell frolicked out of the morgue at the blink of an eye.  It was so quick that it caught Anya off guard and made her wonder if she had hallucinated the whole thing.  Then she reached up to touch her cheek where the reaper’s lips had grazed her, she could still feel a slight tingle.  

“ _A kiss of death..?_ ” she wondered, a slight blush on her cheeks.

 


	2. Second Encounter

**_au·to·psy_ ** **(n): “To look into one’s self,” a surgical examination of a human body post-mortem to discover cause of death.**

 Many days had passed since Dr. Anya Kensington encountered the mysterious, _not-so-grim_ reaper; and with work keeping her quite busy in the laboratory, she hadn’t given him much thought since that interesting yet bizarre night.  It had all happened so fast and at a bewitching hour, that by this time the event seemed nothing more than a distant dream.  That was, until she unzipped one of the body bags lying on a slab in her morgue.

The man lying in the bag presented with a long, plain face accented with a striking jawline and round spectacles upon his bridge.  His long, brown hair was tied back at the nape of his neck with a large red bow, with a few free strands draped around his face.  He donned a brownish-grey suit trimmed with a familiar red and white Western-style bow tie.  He looked like such a humble man, almost too young to have met a demise without it being tragic.  Dr. Kensington tilted her head as she paused for a brief moment, recognizing the quiet beauty and fateful end before her.  She quickly snapped out of her daze and redirected her mind to the task at hand which was prepping the body for examination.  Anya worked to get the man out of the bag and onto her morgue table, a physically demanding feat that she tended to dread about the job, but truth be told she had gotten quite efficient at it.  She then began to untie the patient’s necktie and slowly unbutton the man’s coat when he suddenly opened his eyes and looked down at the crown of the doctor’s head, her red-tipped pony intact.  Not that she could see at that moment, but the man’s eyes shined a familiar shade of phosphorescent green.

“Oh my…if you insist on disrobing me, at least take me to dinner first—what kind of lady do you think I am?” the doctor heard an oddly familiar high-pitched voice quip.

Anya gasped as her eyes widened at the sound and looked immediately up at the man’s face, which was wearing a blush and a coy smirk.  She screamed as she stumbled backwards, knocking into her autopsy tool tray which sent various hemostats and forceps crashing to the floor.

“Oh Darling, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already…” the man sat up and hopped off the table.  “I most certainly remember you, Kenzy _dear_ …how beautiful you looked soaked in all that pretty red blood…”

Anya was breathing heavily as her frightened heart pounded in her chest.  All she could respond with were stutters of partial words, still in a bit of a shock.

The man tugged on his white gloves as he turned his head to the side and stuck his nose up into the air.  “Well **_I_** haven’t forgotten our date with **_death_**.  You promised me I could play with you in this morgue of yours, don’t you remember…?”  He then looked at her with his bright green eyes shining behind those round glasses of his.

“The Grim R-Reaper…?” she finally managed to stammer out, still breathing heavily.  “I thought that was a dream…” she muttered to herself, holding her temple in the palm of her hand.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. “So you prefer my true form, I’m flattered!  I must say it is my best look…”  He reached for the bow in his hair and as he pulled it out his hair turned from brown to a very familiar bright shade of luxurious red.  Then at the blink of an eye the man had transformed into the being Anya had met many nights ago in this very room.

The doctor relaxed a bit as her brain caught up with processing the events that had just unfolded before her.  Seeing the familiar red reaper also calmed her a bit, remembering he wasn’t there to hurt her.  But why did he look so different, and why was he hiding in a body bag?

“Grell…”

“Ugh!” the man happily squealed.  “I figured if I was going to get dirty with you in here I’d wear my drab work clothes—but then again, what’s a little bit of blood between friends…?” the reaper shimmied his shoulders and wiggled his hips at the doctor.  “Now what sort of fun do you have for me today?  C’mon don’t hold back, gimmie the good stuff!”  He started to rummage around the morgue, peeking in a few of the body bags.

“My, aren’t we a busy girl… looks like I came at just the right time!”

“O-okay now…” Anya stuttered, bending to the floor to gather the fallen surgical tools from before.

“Hey I remember this chap—I collected his soul just last night.  Can we do him first, **_please?_** ”

“O-okay sure…” the doctor was much calmer but still in a bit of a shock, this silly man keeps catching her off guard.  Then she realized he could be a huge help with getting the body to the morgue table for her.

“So Grell… can you help me with the body?  Let’s get it to the table…”

“Of course, Madame…”

Anya was making her way over to Grell to help him but before she knew it he had already picked up and placed the body onto the table in perfect position.  Her eyes widened in surprise and relief as one of the most tedious tasks was over with.  She walked toward the table, on the opposite side from Grell.  She smiled at the body’s position then looked up at the reaper who met her eyes.

“Thanks, Reaper…you’ve already been a huge help.”

“Oh goodie!”  His eyes sparkled as he held his hands underneath his chin.  He was more used to getting scolded by his colleagues rather than complimented.  “Though I must say your bedside manner does leave a bit to be _desired_ …”

The doctor scoffed, resting her hand on her hip.  “Hey!  My patients are usually dead, you know—they aren’t supposed to feel anything… Plus it’s not like you’re exactly light as a feather…”

Now it was Grell’s turn to scoff.  “How dare you, _woman_ —calling me fat, are you?  I’ve worked hard to maintain this girlish figure!”  The reaper swayed his hips as he brushed his hand through his long, luscious hair, all while doing a turn full-circle.

Anya raised her eyebrow, a bit confused as to why this man kept referring to himself effeminately.  He was such an odd fellow, but amusingly charming and entertaining to say the least.  She shrugged it off to him simply being silly and dramatic.

“A-alright…” the doctor attempted to stifle a giggle.  “No, you are not fat at all.  C’mon, let’s get him undressed…”

“Ooooh!” Grell blushed as he smiled coyly, flashing those sharp teeth of his.  “Who knew science could be so _rr-riveting?_ ” He over-accentuated the rolling of his r’s as the doctor began to disrobe the patient. 

The reaper helped hold and position the body as she worked to remove all of his clothes, and Grell raised an eyebrow once she covered the man’s face and genital areas with towels.

“No peeking, ‘ay?  Such a virtuous lady, you are…”  He quipped, twirling a strand of his hair in his hand and teasing her with bedroom-like eyes and another blush.

Anya tried to hide the flush on her cheeks as she shook her head, not looking at the silly reaper.  She suppressed another giggle as she continued, “Okay…let me finish the external exam before we cut into the body…”

Grell expired an embellished, listless sigh while the doctor took minutes to observe the body, take measurements, and write down some notes.

“I’ve changed my mind, science is _boring!_ ” the reaper over exaggerated a tilt backward at the hips before hunching over forward.  It seemed as if he were almost ready to walk away until he heard the doctor’s next words.

“It’s time to cut into the body now…” she raised an eyebrow and cocked a sly grin in Grell’s direction.  “There’s going to be lots of blood…” she chimed, wagging a scalpel in his direction.

His eyes lit up and he returned to his side of the table across from the pathologist.

“I might actually get this done faster with your help, so pay attention, Reaper, and follow my lead, okay?”

“Oh yes, I’m all yours Kenzy _darling…!_ ”

Anya handed him a scalpel and then grabbed another one for herself.  Grell watched as the doctor began to make a diagonal incision from the left shoulder down toward the middle of the chest, then she instructed Grell to do the same on the right side, which matched hers beautifully.  Then the doctor made another fluid incision from the center of the chest down toward the pelvic region.  The doctor then grabbed a couple of pairs of forceps and handed one to Grell, and showed him how to gently pull the skin and underlying subcutaneous tissue and muscle away from the sternum.  She proceeded to do the left side while he took the right, and after some time they had finally opened the entire cavity, revealing the sternum and visceral organs of the abdomen.  The pathologist then grabbed her manual bone saw, explaining to the reaper she had to break into the chest plate to get to the heart and lungs.  He smiled as she sawed away, enjoying her dedication but also finding it a bit amusing as he thought he might know a more efficient solution.

“You know, as I told you before you won’t get anywhere with that pathetic little tool.  Won’t you just let me have a go with mine?”  And with that, seemingly out of nowhere he revved the motor of his beloved chainsaw death scythe.

Anya jumped at the sudden loud noise.  “You gotta quit doing that, Reaper!” she exclaimed.  “You can’t use that big thing here—I want to keep the organs intact, not cut them to shreds!”

“Oh calm yourself, _woman!_   I know what I’m doing—“

Before she could muster out another protest Grell had wielded his tool and cut through both sides of the rib cage flawlessly, including the collar bones which always gave the doctor the most trouble.  Anya stared in awe as the red reaper lifted the perfectly cut sternum from the body, pleural organs intact.  He had saved her about thirty minutes of manual labor.

“Wow!” the doctor exclaimed.  “Nice work, Reaper…you just saved me a lot of time!” Her red eyes glistened as if she had gotten a boost of energy.

“I told you, **_deadly efficient!_** ”  The man tucked away his scythe and struck his signature death pose, complete with extended fingers and tongue sticking out of his mouth.  Then he retracted.  “By the way, I **_do_** have a name, you know.”

The doctor blushed, embarrassed.  “Ahh...I-I’m sorry.  Of course.  Thank you, Grell,” she smiled at him, her eyes fluttering a little once they met his.  “You’re turning out to be quite the assistant.  Come on, let’s work on the heart.  You can help me tie off the carotids…”

Grell watched intently as the doctor began to gently cut into the pericardial sac and search for the carotid arteries that branched off of the aorta.  He was fascinated with how tough yet graceful she was while doing her dissections.  He found it to be rather mesmerizing.  She taught him about each organ along the way as she snipped and cut each one out, and he helped her immensely with weighing each organ for her.  The deeper they got into the body the more their arms and hands became saturated with blood, which neither seemed to mind too much.  Grell was no stranger to cutting into humans in his murderous past with Madame Red, but this was different.  There was a beauty and grace in it that enthralled him, for he was always fascinated with anything he found to be extremely beautiful.  And this was like a beautiful orchestra of death playing out before his chartreuse Shinigami eyes.  Beauty, blood, and death were definitely top passions for this mysterious red reaper.

As the time passed and they were able to retrieve all of the organs and dissect each one for microscopic sections, the reaper and the doctor were nearing the end of the task at hand.  Grell helped the pathologist put the body back together and prepare it for funeral home transport.  Once the morgue had been cleaned to the doctor’s preference, night continued to fall and it was soon time for the doctor and the reaper to part ways.

“Oh Kenzy this was so much fun, I can’t wait to do it again!”

Anya blinked shyly as she smiled with a small blush. “You really impressed me R—Grell.  You helped me out a lot tonight.  I’d love to have you back anytime.”

The praise sent the reaper into an ecstatic frenzy, which made him suddenly sweep her off of her feet into his arms and squeeze her uncontrollably.  Anya’s eyes widened in surprise, but after a few seconds she couldn’t help but blush again and smile to herself.  She returned Grell’s embrace, finding herself enchanted a bit by what seemed like an innocence about him.  For she had no idea about his dark past.

“Ooh!  So a deal is a deal, my dear…” Grell began.

Anya backed away just enough to look up at his face, her red eyes meeting his shiny green ones while they still held a shallow embrace.  She furrowed her brow in confusion.  “What do you mean…?”

“Well, I told you I’d show you my death scythe if you let me work with you.  So a deal is a deal.  Come with me, Kenzy Darling—you’ve taught me so much and now I want to teach you!”

The doctor blinked a bit in surprise.  “Ohhh…!” she sighed, almost in disbelief this could be actually happening.  As a scientist, a “doctor of death” as the Reaper would call her, how could she not jump at the opportunity to view death from this other supernatural angle—not something any human would ever have the ability to see.

If William T. Spears, Grell’s manager at the Reaper Dispatch only knew what Grell was about to do.  It was strictly against the rules but Grell was never one to adhere to rules of any kind.  He was a bit of a rogue and a rebel.  He simply couldn’t help himself, he was always tempted by something and extremely impulsive.  He cared most about the immediate present, and right now he wanted to show the pretty doctor something he enjoyed since she was so gracious with him.

“Yea—yes, of course!  A deal is a deal, I’d like that very much,” Anya answered with a smile.

This made the reaper very happy.  He pulled out a little red notebook and consulted it for a moment.

“Ah!  Meet me on the North edge of town, near the park, in front of the clock tower.  Seven o’clock sharp, tomorrow night.  I promise it will be a night you will _never_ forget!”

Anya breathed out a nervous laugh as her face began to flush.  “Okay, I will meet you there.  Tomorrow night.”

Grell squealed in excitement as he hugged Anya tightly once more and swung her around in his arms.  She gasped at the sudden burst but couldn’t help but giggle to herself a bit.  She wondered if all grim reapers were this affectionate.

Then with another blink of an eye the elusive reaper had vanished but she could still hear a faint high-pitched exclamation echoing from afar:

“ _Tomorrow ni-iight…!_ ”

 

 


	3. The Cinematic Record

**_Cin·e·mat·ic rec·ord (n):_ ** **Life memories of the deceased that are drawn out of the body by a grim reaper’s death scythe. _“Their life flashes before their eyes.”_**

Anya’s heart began to race as she ran faster toward the clock tower, her excitement bubbling up higher in her stomach with each step.  She held up the skirt of her plain black dress as she ran, her long ponytail billowing behind her with the red tips flickering like flaming embers.  The clock tower began to chime for the hour-- it was seven o’clock-- just as the grim reaper had instructed.  She did not want to be late and miss out on this opportunity of a lifetime.  The scientist in her definitely needed to see what this night would bring, but her body had an extra buzz about it that had nothing to do with science and more to do with simply seeing him again--the strange but enchanting reaper draped in red. 

Anya stopped in front of the clock tower as the last couple of chimes expelled into the night sky.  She stood alone, catching her breath while her heart raced in anticipation.  _Where was he?_   She wondered if she were crazy again, did she make it all up?

“Kenzy, _Darling…!_ ” she finally heard a familiar high-pitched voice squeal from above.

She turned around and looked up to the face of the clock tower and there he was, flying down towards her like some sort of crimson angel.  Every encounter with him felt like a dream; Anya found herself to be increasingly bewitched by his mystical presence, which stood to reason as he was a supernatural being.  He landed on his feet right next to the doctor, flashing his signature smile complete with shiny, sharp teeth.

Anya tried not to blush as her heart raced faster at his presence.  “Grell—“

The death god reached for her hand and pulled her into a formal dance-like embrace.  “Are you ready to dance with **_Death,_** my Dear?”  He guided her into a few twirls with one hand before he finally dipped her dramatically.  “I promise this will be a night you will _never_ forget!”

Anya’s breath was taken away, her heart still pounding in her chest.  This man literally swept her off her feet.  She managed to compose herself enough to flash him a coyly cocked grin and let her steadfast deep, red eyes meet the phosphorescence of his two-toned green irises.

“That remains to be seen—remember I am a woman of science after all, a natural skeptic.  But you have my attention…”

Grell leaned in toward her face and snarled playfully, sharp teeth shining in the moonlight.  “Playing hard to get, are we?  Oh how I do love the **_chase—_** “

Suddenly a fatal scream cried from the forest beyond the park, cutting the couple’s conversation short.  They both looked in the direction of the sound, then the reaper looked back at Anya with another ominous smile.

“That’s our cue!”

Before she knew it, Anya was trailing behind Grell as he darted swiftly across the street, her hand still in his.  She was fascinated by how nimble and agile he was, his red hair and coat billowing behind him majestically, all while keeping a hold of her hand.  There would have been no way she could have ran that fast otherwise.  They continued through the park and into the forest where they finally landed in front of a nearly deceased and somewhat mangled man.  He had been attacked by a wolf in the forest and was bleeding out onto the ground.

Anya had quickly snapped into doctor mode as she ran to the man and kneeled before him, assessing his wounds.

“He’s bleeding…we have to help him—do you have anything I can use to stop the blood?  Your coat--?”

Anya froze once Grell swiftly thrust the blade of his chainsaw in the ground right next to her.  She turned to look up at him, his long red hair swirling in the night fallen breeze.

“No can do, Madame…this man is fated to _die._   This is what I’ve come to show you…now move aside, Darling, and let me do my work.”

Anya froze for a moment, but then nodded quietly before stepping back behind the crimson reaper.  She watched as the majestic man raised the blade of his chainsaw and started its motor.  She turned away for a brief moment once he initially plunged the blade into the man’s chest.  She heard the splatter of blood as the blade cut through the flesh and bone of his chest, and she quickly looked back toward the scene and saw a magical bright light radiating from the wound.  Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open in awe.  Then she was even more astounded to see ribbon-like structures flowing out from the wound that resembled tape or strips of film.  This had to be some sort of hallucination—Anya had never seen anything like this, and this certainly was not a scene science could even begin to explain.  The flamboyant reaper was surprisingly calm as he stood there reviewing the film, looking majestic as ever amidst the bright light and reels swirling around him.

Anya slowly stepped toward Grell until she stood next to him.

“This, my Dear, is the _cinematic record_.  They say when you die your life _flashes_ before you.  When it does, it is us, the Reapers, who review the life and make a final call on whether a person should live or die…”

Anya had so many questions but found herself speechless.  She simply gazed at the strips of film, completely hypnotized by the sight before her.  She stepped a little closer to get a better look.

“Careful, Dearie…humans cannot see cinematic records, only Reapers can.  These will all be blank for you—“

“Oh look at that—this man, he has a family…”

Grell turned his head sharply to the side and looked down at Anya as she watched through the film.  She could see what he could see, which shocked and intrigued him.

“ ** _You_** can see the **_record?!_** But how--?”

Anya didn’t seem to hear or acknowledge his question, she was too enthralled with the scenes in the record.  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing before her very eyes-- it was supernatural, magical, and beautiful.  Without turning her eyes away from the scene, she reached out her hand and gently took a hold of Grell’s subconsciously.  Grell looked down at his hand in hers with a confused look, his lips half-snarled.  Then he looked back up at her and watched her for a moment, her face still lit up with wonder as she reviewed the film.  Grell finally turned back to the records himself and continued to finish his given task for the night while the pretty doctor still held his hand.

Once he was finished reviewing the cinematic record, he snipped the end of the film and the strips disintegrated into the air and the brilliant white light subsided.  Once the light disappeared, Anya was snapped out of her trance and almost looked drained for a moment as Grell watched her.  Her eyes seemed tired as she looked down at the deceased man, and she was breathing slowly and heavily.  Their hands still connected, they stood in silence for a while until Anya finally looked up at Grell, her red eyes shining with energy once again.  He met her gaze with a bit of confusion behind his red-rimmed glasses.  He was still baffled by the fact that she—a human—could see the frames of the cinematic record.

“That was truly amazing, Grell—I-I’ve never seen anything like that in my life!  I just don’t know what to say…”

She suddenly reached out and quickly wrapped her arms around the reaper, holding him tightly.  “Th-thank you…”

Grell’s eyes widened once she hugged him and he blushed a little.  He wasn’t used to receiving a lot of affection, he tended to be more of a giver of unrequited affections most of the time.  He let his hands touch her softly on her shoulders.

“K-Kenzy…but how could you see the films…?”

Anya backed up and looked at Grell with a wide smile and energetic face.  “I have no idea!  But I saw them…and it was truly surreal!  You definitely kept up your end of the bargain—I certainly won’t forget this night!” she laughed as she danced away from Grell, grabbing his hand to tag him along with her.  She felt like she was on some kind of high, her adrenaline and endorphins on overload.  Grell couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, and he regained his dominant air and pulled on her hand so she was reeled in close to him once more.

“And you, you keep surprising me too, Kenzy _Dear_ …  Come now, I have something else to show you…”

The red reaper spun the doctor around in his arms before scooping her up and leaping high into the air, flying far away from the forest.

Anya shrieked as she suddenly found herself flying through the sky in the arms of this mysterious grim reaper.  All at the blink of an eye again.  He definitely had a knack for startling her.  She gripped onto him tightly for her dear life as he continued through the night sky, her eyes wide and her pupils small and dim.  She was terrified to be up so high, going so fast and not understanding why or how.  Her heart was definitely pounding the hardest it had been all night, and probably in her whole life.  Finally the reaper landed on a secluded hill on the edge of town that housed a beautiful meadow full of luscious green grass and endless beds of rosy red flowers.  Anya gasped once her feet had touched the ground again, still shaken up from the reaper’s fantastic ride.  Grell couldn’t help but look at her and smile, amused by the shock and terror on her face.

“Wow…” Anya breathed heavily, grabbing her chest.  “Maybe warn a girl before you just swoop her up and fly through the air?”

“Awwe…but where’s the fun in that, Dearie?  The look on your face is to **_die_** for!” Grell quipped.

Anya looked up at Grell with a raised eyebrow and a small grimace, then took a moment to soak in her new surroundings.  She looked over the edge of the hill and saw the skyline of the city underneath the shining moon, and it was a beautiful sight indeed.  Then she noticed all the flowers in the meadow, gently swaying in the nighttime breeze.

“Grell…?  Where are we?”

Grell sighed and began to walk deeper into the meadow.  “This is where I like to come to rest sometimes after a job, when I get tired.  I like to lay here in the flowers, it’s so soft and quiet and peaceful.”

Anya followed behind him and stopped when he kneeled down into the grass.  He turned back to her and reached out his hands.

“Come now, give it a try…”

Anya blushed a little before taking his hands and he helped her to the ground.  Once she kneeled down next to him, the reaper rolled over onto his back and looked up at the starry sky.  Anya then did the same, lying right next to him.

“What a night this has been,” Anya finally sighed, breaking the silence.  “How is it that I would have the opportunity to cross paths with a grim reaper—“

Anya stopped herself as she gasped and looked up at Grell with saddened, frightened eyes.

“Am I going to die?”

The reaper rolled his eyes and sighed, annoyed at such a typical question.  “Calm down Kenzy, _Dear_ …you are not on any To-Die Lists that I’ve seen…”

Anya blushed as she then felt silly for asking the question, and cowered her head back toward the ground.  Grell propped himself up on one side and looked down at the doctor.

“I just happened to be finishing a job at that musty, old hospital of yours when I saw you hunched over your victim all drenched in his blood…”

“Victim--?” Anya began to inquire but Grell didn’t seem to take notice.

“As a general rule reapers are not supposed to interact with humans not on the To-Die List, but the scene was just too tempting to pass up…”

The reaper reached out and lightly tapped his fingers one by one around the side of Anya’s waist.  She tensed up at the contact, looking down at his hand.  Then once she turned back his face sharply darted toward hers to where their noses were just inches apart.

“You know, red is my favorite color…and you my dear, were covered in it.  And then I saw your eyes and well… let’s just say you reminded me of someone else I knew a long time ago…”

“My-my eyes…? Anya echoed, touching the side of her temple as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle.  “What person…?” her focus back on the crimson reaper.

Grell flashed a smile. “It’s not important now…a lady’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets, and I’m not quite ready to reveal all mine just yet.”

Anya giggled to herself at his chosen speech pattern, he really was such an odd fellow.  She couldn’t help but be enchanted by him though, despite his eccentricities.  Actually it was his oddities that added to his general mystique, his flamboyance and humor were in quite a glaring contrast to a human’s typical image of a grim reaper.  He was entertaining and alluring—and kind enough to share his otherworldly power with her on this fateful night.

Anya reached up to brush some of the long, red strands of hair away from the reaper’s face before she lightly rested her palm against his sharp jawline.  Once she did Grell’s eyes blinked, startled just a bit at the contact.  Anya continued to gaze up at him with softened eyes as she admired his beauty.  He looked magnificent with his great mane dancing in the breezy moonlight behind him and his eyes were glowing a brilliant chartreuse contrasting the night sky.  He inched his face toward her, stopping just before their noses could barely touch.  Both with their eyes half-opened, Anya’s eyes almost seemed to plead with his as her heart began to beat faster.  Maybe it was his enchanting presence, or maybe it was a sort of shock after the events of the evening, but she could feel a desire bubbling up inside of her that had no sign of subsiding.  

The reaper lightly brushed his nose against hers as his body inched closer, and he tightened his grip around her waist before their lips finally met in a soft but passionate kiss.  Once their lips touched they both breathed in deeply and fell into each other, giving in completely to the kiss.  Anya grabbed onto the back of his head, her arm smothered amidst the massive locks of his fiery mane.  Their bodies softly swayed as their kiss continued to flourish, both surprised at the pleasure that exploded within them once their lips had touched.  Anya felt an electric current run through her veins as the reaper breathed deeply into her, and she swore she could follow its path from her body into his, feeling immediately connected with him.  She gently collapsed to the ground taking the reaper with her.  His body hovered mere inches over hers as their lips continued to meet in small, sensual bursts of electricity—each shock striking just a bit hotter than the last.  Finally, for a moment they took pause, their noses lightly brushing together while they caught their breath and gazed at each other through hazy half-opened eyes.

Grell cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand and she leaned into the touch before reaching up to put her hand over his.  She moved his hand away from her face and looked at it while she lightly caressed over his gloved fingers.  He grinned softly and began to remove his gloves as she gazed upon him.  Once removed, the reaper leaned into the doctor, brushing his nose with hers once more.  She closed her eyes upon feeling the flesh of his fingertips against the fair skin of her cheek and he finally led her into a sultry kiss.  His long, red strands tickled the bare skin across her neckline as his fiery mane draped over them like a cloak.  She reached for him again, brushing an armful of that magnificent hair back before embracing him fully and reeling him into her.  She sighed deeply into him upon feeling the weight of his body drop down on her, it brought about a sensation of security and pleasure—inside the arms of a grim reaper she had never felt more protected.

Anya gasped for air once Grell broke away and began to trail kisses down the side of her neck.  She gripped onto him tighter and ruched a handful of his hair in her fist once she felt his shark-like teeth starting to scrape against her delicate flesh.

“My, my…how sweet you taste, Kenzy _Dear_ …” the death god softly growled while tickling her ear with his fiery breath. 

Anya trembled under him as the tickling sensation in her ear put all of her nerves on an electric overload.

“I could just devour you like a tasty, little dessert…”

Anya whimpered suddenly once the seductive reaper nibbled her neck with an increasing aggression, finally breaking the skin and causing it to bleed.  Once the tip of his tongue tasted her crimson syrup, he breathed deeply and bit down harder, hungry for more.  Her salty blood against the sweet flavor of her flesh was insatiable to the reaper.  He was after all, well-known among his peers for being blood thirsty.  The doctor continued to whimper underneath him; for his sharp teeth sinking into her neck stung quite a bit, but it was intoxicating—a perfect balance of pleasure and pain.  She gripped onto him tighter, tugging at a handful of his thick hair.  At that moment her body was buzzing with every nerve ending engaged to where she almost felt dizzy.  Was this real, she wondered, or some sort of intense, paranormal dream. 

Grell paused to admire the aesthetic of the red blood against the porcelain canvas of her neck.  He shined a light smile before licking his lips then he looked up into the good doctor’s glazed over eyes.  With her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her deepened breaths, she raised her face up to meet his and paused when their noses lightly touched.  She ran her hand down his neck and led him into a kiss, completely intoxicated by his spell and begging for more.  Her hands found their way to his neck tie and struggled to loosen it along with the top buttons of his white dress shirt.  She was aching to touch his flesh and feel it against hers.  The reaper let his signature red coat drop off of his arms and soaked in a few kisses from the doctor along his neck before he pushed her back down to the ground and hovered over her, asserting his dominance.  He dropped his head into her chest, sprinkling sensual kisses across its flesh while his hands roamed her body.  A light moan escaped the doctor’s lips upon feeling the reaper’s hand cup her breast before he slithered down her torso and finally underneath her hem.  She followed, her hands sliding down each side of his lean and firm body before tugging onto the waistline of his trousers.

She felt his lips make their way back to the fresh wound on her neck and he sighed deeply once he got a taste of her remnant crimson nectar.  At this point her body was screaming, aching for his.  He felt so close and yet so far away.  She was dizzy with lust, passion, and desire—all for him, the mysterious reaper in red.

“Grell…” she pleaded breathlessly.

He brought his eyes up to meet hers with a small but ominous smile.  She touched the side of his face and nuzzled into him, never wanting anything else more in her entire life.  Grell closed his eyes as they took a moment to align their bodies for the next dance, their warm breaths breezing across each other’s lips.  Once ready, their eyes met again and now they both were trembling if even just a bit.  The reaper leaned down to kiss the doctor softly, followed by a second kiss accompanied by deeper breaths and a cupping of the cheek.  He then dropped his head down into her neck, strands of his massive mane tickling the good doctor’s exposed flesh as he began to rock himself into her.

Anya expired a sultry moan upon feeling the strength of his _scythe_ enter her.  Her body surged with shockwaves of a sublime energy with every thrust, each one more intense than the last.  She had never felt anything like it before.  He was a god after all, it would stand to reason a supernatural being would have supernatural sex—but this was even better than any fantasy any human could imagine.  Their bodies truly moved as one, rocking together in a perfect sultry harmony.  Anya could feel the energy radiating from her veins and buzzing throughout all of her nerves, and she could feel it all running through Grell, too.  It was otherworldly, sinful, and hypnotic.  Time didn’t only seem to stand still—it seemed to not even exist.  The lines between time and space, life and death felt blurred somehow—as if they were in another dimension in another universe where they were the only two beings in existence.

Anya yelped as Grell bit into her fresh neck wound once more, craving to taste more of her salty-sweet blood.  He snarled a throaty purr as his tongue licked the fresh blood from her skin.

“Delicious, indeed…” he whispered into her ear, which made her shiver in his arms.

Anya gripped onto him tightly and gasped as he rocked into her with more force, hungry with lust and desire himself.  She closed her eyes as she let her face get smothered by his fiery mane, the more she gasped for air the more intense each thrust surged through her body.

“Oh my god…Grell…”

He growled a tiny giggle.

“Kenzy, _dear…_ ”

She brushed an armful of his hair back and their eyes locked for a moment, both breathing heavily.  She started to fall deep into his chartreuse phosphorescence.

“Grell…I…”

Their lips met suddenly in a deep and passionate kiss, their bodies rocking and writhing faster, simply wanting—needing—more of each other.  The kiss was powerful and devouring as their bodies continued to dance, ceasing only to Anya’s cries of ecstasy as her body began to surrender completely to the reaper.

This pleased him greatly and he smiled, showing the doctor no mercy while she trembled underneath him.  She wrapped her arms around him fully and he dropped his face into her neck once more, breathing heavily into her ear.  She kissed the top of his head and ran her hands through his luscious mane while her body guided his to its final surrender.

The doctor and the reaper took some time to catch their breath, just lying in each other’s embrace.  Anya continued to stroke through Grell’s hair, still feeling like she was in some kind of dream and she desperately didn’t want to wake up.  A few days ago the term _grim reaper_ was only something of folklore, she never imagined for one moment she would ever meet one—let alone _make love_ to one.

He was right, he gave her a night she would never forget.  A God of Death had never made her feel more alive.

 

 

 


	4. Spellbound

**_As a rule, they say humans haunted by a Shinigami have nothing but misfortune.—Death Note_ **

Dr. Kensington went about her daily life as normal, which mostly included reporting to the morgue to continue her exploration of death.  Though after her enthralling night with the enchanting grim reaper, she found it difficult to concentrate on her work.  Her mind always found its way back to him and the events of that night.  While bearing witness to the supernatural phenomenon of the cinematic record was indeed profound, it had not been the main source of her distraction.  For each time she closed her eyes she found herself hit with intense flashbacks of gasping underneath him, wrapped inside his arms while he reaped her flesh with the most sinful of pleasures.  She could almost sense the wild strands of his mane brushing against her bare chest, smell the graceful masculinity that radiated from his touch, and taste the lust within the warm breath of his divine kiss.  Again, she often wondered if it all had just been a fantastic hallucination until she remembered the healing wound on the side of her neck.  In public it was necessary to keep it concealed, either by a high collared neckline or a scarf; but in private she often found herself in front of the mirror checking to see if it was still there—her only souvenir from that magical night.

After completing another autopsy for the day and finishing the necessary laboratory cleanup, Anya then stopped to wash her hands at the morgue sink.  She reached for a towel to dry her hands and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror that rested just above the sink.  The doctor paused for a moment while she stared back at her reflection and sighed.  Her thick, red-tipped black hair was tied up in the high ponytail as always, to keep it away from her face and the bodies while she did her work.  It was long and full enough to cover her neck wounds on its own if she could wear it down, but due to the nature of her work that simply was not an option.  On this day she elected to wear a fashion scarf around her neck to conceal her secret, and of course she picked one dyed with the fieriest shade of red in honor of her passionate reaper.  While still standing at the mirror, Anya slowly removed the red garment to gaze at the bruises he left behind once more.  She lightly touched them with her fingertips and closed her eyes, immediately transporting back to that night where she could sense his tender yet steadfast lips caressing her neck, and the intoxicating pangs of his teeth sinking into her delicate tissue.  Her lips lightly tingled as they craved the death god’s kiss once more, and a warmth then began to radiate from her heart down to her loins as her body recalled the sinful pleasure that surged through her each time his _scythe_ filled her completely.  It was a lustful passion she had never felt before, and her body desperately craved it—craved _him_ —again.

Anya had stopped wondering how and why his presence in her life had come to be, and rather grievously yearned to find her way back into his arms and taste his perfect kiss once more.

_Would she ever see him again?_

“Caught in a daydream, Milady?  Hee hee hee…” a shrill but playful voice suddenly chirped.

Anya gasped and turned around, quickly wrapping the red scarf back around her neck to conceal her bruises.  They were her precious but dirty little secret.

The tall man standing before her wore a black robe accented with a grey sash and metallic lockets adorning his waist.  His silver shaggy hair ran down the length of his back and long, wild bangs concealed most of the top portion of his face, including his eyes.  His head donned a black top hat which included a tail of fabric that draped from its center down the man’s back over his mane.  His face also bore a noticeable scar that stitched diagonally across his face, and more scars were on his neck.

“Uncle…” Anya gasped.  “You startled me…I presume you are here to pick up the body?  It’s ready for you.”

“Hee hee hee, I am so proud of you, my child—you do exquisite work.  I taught you well…” the man returned, peaking at the body underneath the sheet on the morgue table, the sleeves of his gown draping over his hands.

While the man was not exactly Anya’s true uncle, they did share a distant blood relation of which no one seemed to know the full details.  For as long as she could remember he always looked exactly the same, with the shaggy, silver hair and facial scars.  Most people only knew him by his title—the _Undertaker_.  He earned his living by preparing the dead for funeral and burial.  Throughout her young life, Anya spent many hours in his funeral shop learning bits about the deceased while fueling an interest in human anatomy and disease.  As a child Anya was abnormally preoccupied with death, often wondering if there was anything to feel afterwards or if there was a heaven and if she would get to go there.  She haunted herself with thoughts of being inside a coffin and buried underground, and how the world would continue to go on, and what would happen to her body in that time.  She would often experience this imagery when she tried to go to sleep at night and it resulted in a lot of worrisome and restless nights for a simple, young girl.  Her “uncle” was always there to tell her she had nothing to be afraid of, that she was a good child who would live a long, happy life and go to heaven.  Though ever the analytical mind, part of her figured it was fluff that adults give to children to calm their spirits.  So she elected to try to learn as much as she could from her mysterious relative.  The more time Anya spent with the Undertaker and then later in medical school studying pathology, it served as therapy in a way.  She was able to face her fears head on and the more she soaked in the death of others the less preoccupied about her own she became.  While she focused on the science and wonders of what sustained and destroyed life it desensitized her from her fears and had simply become routine.  Death was destined to be a large part of her personality, initially born from the bloodline of an Undertaker and subsequently becoming a doctor of death herself.  Now as a pathologist, once her autopsies were complete the Undertaker would retrieve the bodies from her morgue and take them back to his funeral shop where he embalmed and dressed them for funeral viewing.  He also fitted them for coffins and burial plots.  For someone who did such a grim job, he was always quite cheerful in a quirky, off-beat sort of way.  He valued laughter above all things in life, though most people in town thought of him as strange and creepy.

Anya smiled at the Undertaker.  “Yes, I suppose you did…  Here, let me help you.”

“No need, my child.  I can take care of this.  But do tell me…who is he?”

Anya returned a facial expression mixed with confusion and a hint of feeling like she had just been caught committing a crime.  She felt her face flush a little, and she hoped he didn’t notice.

“He?  He who?  I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Hee hee hee… I recognize a lover’s daydream anywhere, anytime.  I’ve had them myself.  Ahh, to be young again!”

“Uncle—you really are as crazy as they say!”  Anya further tried denying the Undertaker’s accusation.  “There is no one, but I do have to go—you know the way out.”

“Hee hee— just be careful out there, my child.  There is always a fine line between love and death.”

 _He doesn’t even know the half of it_ , Anya thought to herself.  How could she tell him she was falling for no ordinary man, but an actual grim reaper!  However, little did she know her beloved “uncle” would be about the only person who could possibly believe her tale, for he too was in fact a grim reaper himself.  At least he was at one time but had since abandoned his post.  This is why Anya was able to view the cinematic record images on that fateful night with Grell—unbeknownst to her she had a touch of reaper power flowing through her blood.

***

The doctor sat inside the horse-driven carriage as it was heading toward her home.  Night had fallen completely and she looked out the window and up to the starry sky.  The stars were shining bright, much like they did that night in the meadow—that night with _him._   Anya sat quietly as she enjoyed the ride, decompressing after a long day in the morgue.  She was looking forward to arriving home when she suddenly felt a strong urge to stop the carriage.  It was inexplicable—but she abruptly requested that the driver stop the carriage so she could get out.  All that was there in the cobblestone street was a dark alley toward which Anya had this sudden, strong pull.  The carriage driver was confused, calling after the good doctor but she didn’t hear him.  Her focus was all on following this dark alleyway, which should have been unnerving but it wasn’t at all.  She had a powerful feeling that she was supposed to be there, as if a greater force were guiding her down the path.  She had never experienced a feeling like this before, so intense and persistent.  Then suddenly clarity manifested once she heard the familiar, rattling buzz of a chainsaw in the distance.

_Grell…!_

Her heart began to race as she started to run down the alley, further into the darkness.  She could hear the chainsaw’s song getting closer, but it was still faint.  He was nearby, and something greater was definitely working to pull her toward him.  She continued to run, the clicking of her heels against the cobblestone road increasing in volume and tempo. This road seemed to go on forever as it led deep into the bowels of the city that no one knew existed.  Finally, once she looked up she caught a glimpse of his red coat, its tail flowing behind him as he darted around a nearby rooftop.  Then she saw three other figures—men dressed in posh black suits swarming around him.  These men didn’t seem ordinary either, as they had speed and agility that matched the reaper’s.  Once she saw two of the three men launch an attack toward Grell from two different directions she felt a fire ignite violently within her.

“GRELL!” she shouted.  Her fire burning brighter as her eyes were focused with strength and determination on the scene in front of her.  The four men heard her cry and all looked in her direction.

“I demand you stand down!” she ordered.  She flipped her palm upward and once she did, a ball of fire instantly appeared floating above her cupped hand.

“Kenzy--?” Grell gasped, but this drop in his guard led one of the men in black an opening to give him a swift kick to the chest, hurling him backward.

“NO!” Anya screamed before hurling her magical fireball toward the men.  Two of the men jumped away, dodging her fiery attack, while the third man in black caught Grell and helped him regain his poise after being kicked.  Once Grell revved his chainsaw, seeming unaffected by the blow, the man next to him suddenly flashed knives from in between his fingers at the flick of his wrist.

“There is no business for you here—move along to other prey,” the man in black said before throwing his knives towards the men.

Anya had no idea how, but she was able to generate another fireball and also hurl it toward the men.  Once they both were distracted by dodging the two simultaneous attacks, Grell was able to capitalize on their weakness and he quickly knocked one down, standing on his chest while pointing his death scythe straight in between the other man’s eyes.

“That’ll teach you to mess with the likes of **_ME!_**   I’m going to enjoy sending you to your **_DEATH,_** Demon!  I don’t care how handsome you are!”

Before Grell could plunge his chainsaw through the man’s head, the other man in black behind him touched his shoulder.

“Now Grell, I thought you were working on that temper of yours,” the man said with a polite and almost amused smile while cocking his head to one side.  “How about we let them go instead?”

Grell turned to the man, clearly flustered. “But Bassy, they were going to kill ME!  I’m just trying to do my job, you know?”

The man in black nodded, then turned to the other two men.  “I think we can call this one a draw, shall we?  Run along then, I’ll take care of the reaper.”

The other two men simply nodded and flew away into the darkness.

Grell shrieked a high pitched growl while he shook his head and tugged at his hair.

“Bassy!  How could you just let them go like that??”

Anya was down in the street looking up at the scene on the rooftop, wondering what the hell was going on.

“GRELL!”

The two men looked down in her direction.

“Oh, Kenzy…” Grell murmured.  He flew down toward her and the man in black followed.

“That was quite an impressive flame, my Lady,” the man in black stated, holding his hand to his chest and bowing slightly towards Anya.

“Yea Kenzy, what the hell was that?”

Anya shook her head. “I—I don’t know…that’s never happened before…I just saw you were in trouble, and it just sort of happened—“

“So you two know each other, then?” the man in black asked.

“You threw fire for **_me?!_** ” Grell squealed in ecstatic excitement before picking the doctor up in his arms and squeezing her while he twirled her around.  After he set her back down the man in black noticed how her eyes fluttered and her cheeks blushed once she looked back up at the reaper.

“Yea, well…” Anya nervously fidgeted, scratching her head.

“Bassy, this is Kenzy—she is a doctor!”

The man closed his eyes and grinned politely again.  “Another doctor, how interesting.  It seems you have a type.”

This caused the reaper to growl and grimace in the other man’s direction.

The man bowed toward Anya again.  “Nice to meet you, my lady.  I’m Sebastian, butler to the Queen’s Watchdog, Earl Phantomhive.”

Anya took a moment to observe the tall, slender man in front of her.  He had short, stylish black hair with many textured, wild strands that framed perfectly around his angular face.  She noticed he also had red eyes that were a bit darker than her own.  As a butler he was dressed as such, in a dapper black suit complete with tailcoat and white gloves.  His voice was smooth and soft, like caramel.

“Dr. Anya Kensington,” she returned the introduction.  “You are really a butler?  But I just saw you flying—“

“I’m simply one hell of a butler.  There’s a little magic in all of us, but I don’t need to tell you that…” he returned, always with a polite grin that had an air of superiority to it.  “Speaking of my master, I need to return to the estate.”  Sebastian turned to Grell and sighed as if he were getting ready to speak to a child.

“Do try to keep out of trouble, Grell.  I can’t always be there to save you…”

Grell held his hands under his chin and batted his eyelashes at Sebastian.  “Oh Bassy you know you’re a sucker for a damsel in distress—especially one as fetching as I, mmm?”  The reaper puckered his lips and leaned in toward Sebastian which caused him to turn away and scoff.  He then looked back at both the reaper and the doctor with another smug smile.

“Do be careful, my lady…you don’t want to end up like Madame Red…”  With that last quip, Sebastian flew quickly away into the night sky.

“Who’s Madame Re—“ Anya started to ask but was cut off by Grell smashing his lips into hers.  This wasn’t a kiss out of affection, but rather more to distract her and get away from the subject of Madame Red.

Of course Anya was caught off guard, but his kiss was what she had been dreaming about for the last few days and once her brain caught up with the moment she embraced him fully and reciprocated the kiss.  She reached up and cupped his jawline in the palm of her hand, and as the kiss continued the tension in their lips became softer and more affectionate.  The kiss was no longer just a distraction tactic.  Anya ran her hand along his jawline until she reached up into his thick red mane, savoring the taste of his lips every time they brushed up against hers.  Grell gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against his body before he stroked his hand across the side of her head, touching her silky, pulled back hair.  He then placed his palm along her jawline and let his thumb tickle her earlobe as their kiss became deeper.  Grell never remembered being kissed like this—so passionately—by anyone, and he found that he enjoyed it very much.  He tended to have a stronger attraction to sleek and attractive men, but on the rare occasion a woman proved to be exceptionally intriguing she could stand a chance at earning his affection.  He usually found most women to be extremely boring and predictable—but he had found a deep connection with Madame Red and he was starting to feel that connection again with Anya.  She definitely was not boring with how she kept surprising him—first the ability to see cinematic records as a human, and now these magical fireballs.  She had to be something more than human, and this intrigued him greatly.  Plus Grell felt a connection the first night they met, seeing his beauty drenched in blood while conducting an orchestra of death.

Anya’s heart was glowing inside her chest, ready to burst out of love for the man in her arms.  Her lips broke away from his and she sprinkled a few kisses along the side of his face as she ran her hand down his neck and chest.  They finally took a moment to catch their breath while their noses lightly nuzzled into each other.  Grell let his chartreuse phosphorescence gaze softly from behind his spectacles into her red eyes, which met his with an affectionate tenderness.  He brushed his hand across the side of her silky scalp.

“Kenzy _Dear_ … so full of surprises… Who are you?”

Anya smiled softly, looking up at her beloved with nothing but pure affection in her eyes.

“I’m just a doctor, who’s fallen in love with a Grim Reaper…”

She reached up to touch his cheek on one side while leaning in to kiss the other.  When their eyes met again Grell paused with a slight blush before he flashed his sharky teeth in a playful smile.  Then without warning, he scooped the pretty doctor up in his arms and darted swiftly into the sky, sweeping her right off of her feet yet again.

 

 


	5. House on a Hill

**_In this house on a hill, the dead are living still… –The Pretty Reckless_ **

Anya lived in a grand estate atop a small hill just on the edge of town.  It was close enough to the city to be convenient, yet secluded enough for optimal privacy.  Passed down throughout her family for generations, she was given the magnificent home after finishing medical school.  Like Anya, the inside of the house was a little dark and mysterious.  She preferred candlelight over electricity and the interior design shared a mixture of reds accenting black, much like the doctor’s hair.  Red and black were colors that suited Anya well—the colors of fire and darkness, passion and solitude—love and death.  She was a woman full of passion indeed, a passion she yearned to share but only with one who proved to be worthy.  Her passion required one from a man of equal or greater proportion, a man who could appreciate and reciprocate the same level of passion—a man like Grell Sutcliff.

There they stood in her bedroom near the foot of her grandiose bed dressed in luxurious red blankets adorned with delicate black lace.  Grell had just flown them to her dark but peaceful mansion after their earlier encounter with the demons, and he couldn’t help but be impressed with the décor.  He was finding himself to be continuously impressed with the good doctor which kindled the first embers of a soon to be flaming affection.  Grell, the strong personality who bowed to no one soon found himself plagued briefly with the slightest whisper of self-doubt— _could he possibly be good enough for her?_   Dr. Kensington, a woman of pure heart who used her knowledge to help people through life and death-- whatever would she think of him and the brutal murders he committed with Madame Red?  What Grell failed to realize was he had grown so much since then, and after serving time and punishment and through the guidance of his superior and dearest friend William he had become good.  Long ago were the days of Madame Red and their murderous indiscretions, and despite still being as hot-tempered and impulsive as his fiery mane would suggest—underneath it all rested a heart which too had become pure.

The Reaper Realm was privy to advanced technologies of which mere mortals of the time period had no invention.  The majestic reaper was able to cue up a song that began with a single heartbeat and led into an enchanting electrical orchestra of rock and mystery, accented by a hellishly angelic voice.  She mused about a house on a hill, much like that of Anya’s, and the tone was as dark and mysterious as the budding romance between the doctor and the reaper—a love to be born from opposite sides of death.

Anya was mesmerized by the music, and even though she had several questions she remained silent as she took Grell’s hand and let him lead her into a gothic dance.  Her ruby eyes gazed up into his chartreuse phosphorescence which shined back at her from behind his red-rimmed spectacles.  As their bodies swayed with the music they leaned into each other gradually, their temples grazing ever so slightly.  Anya closed her eyes and almost held her breath, she was both nervous and ecstatic to be in the reaper’s presence once again.  She wondered if he could sense the slightest of trembles that coursed through her veins—though she couldn’t be certain she was actually trembling or if she just felt as if she were.  Just as before, while in his arms time seemed to slow its course and transport them to a dimension of divine fantasy.  Grell’s eyes remained open but heavy and distracted somehow.  Unlike the doctor who fully recognized and embraced her budding love for the reaper, he was struggling to understand the new affection that was beginning to spark deep within himself.  He too had questions for Anya but in the moment couldn’t seem to bring himself to break the silence.

The reaper was slightly taken aback once Anya let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist underneath his ethereal red coat.  She then rested her head on his shoulder and after a slight pause he returned her embrace and held her softly as they continued to sway to the melodic music.  Anya felt her face flush and her body tingle upon his arms encapsulating her, along with that warm sense of security she experienced the other night.  She soon brought one hand to his chest and sought out his shallow heartbeat—he wasn’t exactly alive in the biological sense but immortal in the supernatural sense.  It stood to reason he would have some means of keeping the blood flowing throughout his body.  It was faint but she could still detect it which made her feel even more connected to him.  Grell finally closed his eyes and rested his lips atop the good doctor’s silky scalp.

“Your heartbeat…” Anya finally spoke.  “It’s so faint…”

“Yes of course, Darling, “ Grell sighed.  “I am neither completely living nor completely dead.”

“Were you alive at one time..?”

“Yes,” Grell quietly answered.

“You were human…?”

“Yes…”

“D-do you remember your life..?”

“No.”

The air in the room had become somewhat somber, perhaps from both the conversation and the music.  Plus the doctor and the reaper had a unique, metaphysical connection.  Whatever emotions were flowing through one’s body the other could easily sense in theirs, especially through touch.  Anya could sense a hint of sadness from Grell despite even him not being conscious of emitting it, while Grell picked up on the doctor’s mix of affectionate concern and genuine curiosity.

“Grell…?” Anya began, moving her head away from his shoulder before her ruby reds sought out his emerald glow.  “Who were those men, from before?  Who is…Sebastian?”

The reaper sighed as his lips grinned lightly and his eyes fluttered a bit.

“Kenzy _Dear_ , always the little scientist, aren’t we?  So many _questions_ …”

Grell quickly took Anya’s hand in his while gripping her waist with the other and spun her around a few times.  The doctor gasped and then giggled, startled at the sudden movement while simultaneously finding it invigorating.  There was never a dull moment inside his arms.

“Oh Bassy, my dark-feathered raven—how he loves to toy with me so!  It is a demon’s way, I suppose…”

Anya’s eyes widened a bit.  “A _demon_?  Really?  He seemed so…polite.”

“Yes, my Darling—Bassy and I go way back but generally speaking demons and reapers are sworn enemies!  Those dirty rats are always trying to steal the souls we’re assigned to reap.”

“Ohhh… so that’s what the others were doing, or trying to at least.  But Bassy helped you?”

“And you too, my Dear!  I can’t say I’ve ever met a woman who could throw fire before…”

The couple slowed down their dance once more as Anya shook her head slightly, her hands joined with Grell’s.

“Yes, as I told you that has never happened before… I-I have no idea how or why—“

Grell drew her in close to his body and looked down upon her from behind his red-rimmed glasses.

“Maybe you could try it again…right now…” he purred, then he lightly pushed her back until her arms were fully extended and he let go of her hands.

Anya blinked a few times as she looked back at Grell and shrugged a little.  It had all happened so fast before, that she wasn’t sure what triggered the power in the first place.  All she remembered was the strong pull down the dark alley that led her to him, and the energy that filled her soul as she ran toward him.  Then the sudden, intense fight response that ignited within her once she sensed he was in trouble.  She closed her eyes and attempted to relive that moment and channel that energy again.  She took a couple of deep breaths and flipped open her palm, but nothing happened.  She took in another deep breath, then opened her eyes and fixed them straight upon the crimson reaper who stood across from her.  Her heart began to glow as she gazed upon him, admiring his statuesque beauty from head to toe.  She focused on their kiss earlier, the kiss she had craved for days that still tasted better than she could have ever remembered.  She focused on his gentle embrace as they danced to the haunting music, and the comfort she felt in feeling his shallow heartbeat.  The warmth in her heart continued to grow as she marveled the man standing before her, and the more her eyes roamed his body her hands and lips longed to do the same.  Lust and desire soon fueled the affectionate flame within her heart which caused it to roar loudly, and once she felt the warmth surge from her chest throughout her vessels she cocked a seductive smile.  Anya flipped her palm open again, and this time a fireball appeared, burning just as bright and hot as the one in her heart.

Grell’s eyes widened at the sight, fascinated by the woman standing before him.  Their eyes remained locked onto each other as he slowly approached her, stopping just a few inches in front of her to where he could feel the heat from the fireball on his face.  He glanced at it for a moment, then back into the magical doctor’s eyes before a sharky grin crept across his face.

“Red is the color of fiery passion…and _you_ , my _dear_ …are _flaming!_ ”

Anya flipped her palm downward to snuff the magical flame, and once she did Grell pulled her closer and she draped her arms over his shoulders and around his neck before they finally succumbed to a powerfully passionate kiss.  When two flames unite they meet to form a larger flame, one that burns hotter and stronger than either could on their own.  The same could be told of the reaper and the doctor—two passions uniting in a fiery explosion.  As their lips violently wrestled with one another, each devouring the other’s kiss as if they were emaciated—Grell led Anya from the foot of the bed towards the head in a chaotic stumble.  He finally let his magnificent red coat fall from his arms and onto the floor behind him before their waltz was halted by the doctor’s back slamming up against the wall, just a few feet from her bed.  Their lips continued to meet ravenously, pausing only for moments to catch their breath and acknowledge the sin in each other’s eyes.  With the reaper’s hands wrapped around her waist she let hers roam up and down his firm, lean chest and tug at the starchy-soft fabric of his crisp white shirt.  Anya was brought to shivers after Grell seductively exhaled into her ear, and he reached up to slowly pull the silky, red scarf from around her neck.  He smiled ominously at her exposed flesh before he leaned in and let the tip of his tongue softly trace over the healing bruises from their last encounter.  Anya sighed deeply as her head fell back into the wall and her hand traveled up his body before getting lost in his magnificent red sea of hair.  Her heartbeat intensified rapidly, and she gripped onto the seductive reaper while his taste buds continued to tease and tickle her helpless flesh.  Grell then snarled a bit as his sharp teeth began to lightly nip at the crook of her neck, and the more the doctor gripped and tugged on him, the more aggressive his actions became.  Between her dizzying gasps she worked desperately to undo his necktie followed by the buttons of his shirt and waistcoat.  Anya surveyed his partially exposed body through glossed-over eyes, in awe of his divine perfection.  She began to lean in toward him, but suddenly stopped with a masochistic yelp as the death god continued to tease and gnaw at her flesh.  The sensation was intoxicating and damn near debilitating—the doctor fought the desire of collapsing completely in his arms, but it was as if his kiss were infecting her senses with a paralyzing venom.  The high presented a feeling of heavy weightlessness inside an enchanting, disoriented splendor.

Dropping her face into the crook of the reaper’s neck, Anya’s lips finally made contact with his bare flesh.  She hummed lightly upon tasting him at last, his flavor bearing a supernatural mixture of sweet and spicy—much like the reaper himself.  Grell purred in response to her affections, and seductively slithered his hands first along the curves of her waist, then down her abdomen and below her navel.  Anya continued to fervently adorn his neck and chest with bewitching kisses, enough to make the reaper pause and nuzzle into the side of her head, exhaling deeply into her ear once more.  He held her closer as his mane draped around her like a curtain.  He continued to let his hands explore her figure until he decided he needed more.  As the lust grew stronger below his waistline, he reached one hand up to suddenly grab onto Anya’s ponytail and give it a forceful tug.  The doctor gasped as her neck snapped backward, and Grell expired a sinister growl with his face just a breath’s distance from hers.  He then leaned in and kissed her aggressively while twisting her long, red-tipped black hair around his hand.  He continued to tug at her hair, asserting his dominance over her.  His feelings below were becoming overridden with a violent sin, and his _chainsaw_ was craving to hack right through her innocent body until he brought her to feel the color he loved most.

Suddenly, Grell whipped the good doctor around so her back was to him.  He draped her pony over one shoulder before he stepped closer, making sure she could sense the power of his _scythe_ against her backside.  Anya blushed, biting her lip as she turned her head to one side.  He began to undo the buttons of her dress, and once it loosened and exposed more of her porcelain skin, Grell leaned in and peppered a trail of seductive kisses down her shoulder.  Her dress soon dropped to the floor, and while the death god worked to untie the laces of her corset, Anya swore she could feel her legs trembling.  She stood quietly as he disrobed her, all of her nerves on edge in anticipation of what was to come next.  She then felt his warm breath breeze across her skin as his pointed teeth lightly scraped down her shoulder blade, which sent a sinful chill down her spine.  Once her clothes and undergarments were completely removed, Grell reached for her hair again and released it from its ponytail with one fell swoop of his hand.  Her long, wavy locks fell to the small of her back, and Grell stepped in closer to her, pressing his pelvis gently into the cleft of her backside as he ran his hands slowly down both sides of her arms.

“Kenzy _Dear_ …my flame-throwing doctor of _death_.  Tonight you belong to me…” Grell seductively purred into her ear in a low, throaty tone.  He wrapped one arm around her chest to hold her close against himself, while his other hand slithered up her neck and into her hair before slinking over her eyes to cover them.

“Tonight you are mine…”

Anya held her breath as she was paralyzed in his arms.  Though she was not frightened, she was simply bewitched by his touch and overcome by her desire.

“Tell me…”  His breath tickled her ear, sending chills down her naked body.  Her heart thumped rigorously in her chest and her breath quivered between her lips as she leaned back into him.

“Yes…”

She could almost feel his lips smile against her ear before he slid his hand away from her eyes and down her body.  He leaned over her shoulder and began to kiss her neck, softly at first.  Anya let out a fervent sigh before reaching up over her shoulder for him.  Her hand dove into his fiery red mane and held his head gently as he continued to kiss and suck on her neck.  She leaned back into him, arching her back slightly while closing her eyes and breathing deeper.  She wanted him so much that it hurt.

“Grell…” she finally managed to plead between her heated gasps.

He snarled playfully into her ear before turning her around to face him.  He embraced her fully, holding her naked body flush against his.  Once again Anya gasped at the sudden, powerful movement before Grell stroked his hand through her long, silky hair.  The doctor easily melted in his arms, she reached out to tickle his bare chest with her fingertips while her fiery breath puffed across his lips.  Anya let her heavy eyes survey his lean, magnificent body while her fingers still roamed his chest.  Grell felt her hunger for him through her touch, increasing with each caress.  He was continuously fascinated with the fiery nature that hid behind her fair outwardly appearance.  She harbored great passion, a passion that was strong enough to take on his own, which for him was a rare find.  Their lips finally succumbed to yet another sinful kiss as the doctor worked to remove the reaper’s waistcoat from his shoulders.  Next, she was able to unbuckle the sleeve garters from each arm, which then allowed her to finally slide his white dress shirt down his arms until it fell to the floor.  Anya inhaled deeply, taking in his beauty as her palms roamed his body.  She leaned in to kiss his neck then down his chest while her fingers continued to venture down his torso to the waistline of his pants.  She then looked back up into his eyes and brushed her nose against his while her heart continued to beat violently.  Once she tugged at his waistline, the reaper shined a seductive grin at her, daring her to venture inside.  Her hands lightly trembled as they began to loosen the buttons, her breath held tightly with her lips only a whisper’s distance from his.  She felt the desire tingling within the depths of her own eden as her lust for him continued to consume her.  Her fingertips finally brushed up against his strength and once Grell felt her gentle touch a devilish smirk crept across his face.

“Come now-- don’t be shy, Dearie…” he purred seductively, then grabbed her hand and guided it to fully embrace his firm, sinful glory.

Anya squeaked lightly at feeling his strength in the palm of her hand, it made her lust for him even more.

“Mmm yes…” the reaper hummed across her lips before cupping her cheek in his hand and leading her into a passionate kiss.

Grell’s swift, supernatural grace quickly led them into her bed, where they soon found their warm, nude bodies tangled up in each other underneath the crimson sheets.  Anya gazed up at him, her red eyes warm with love and desire for the man hovering just inches above her.  She smiled tenderly and reached up to lightly tickle the side of his cheek.  If someone would have told her weeks ago that she would eventually be in this moment, she would have considered them mad for sure.  Though now here she was, in the arms of an enchanting death god who unmasked a whole new world of senses and emotions for her, and for the first time she felt like she finally understood the true meaning of lust, and why it was considered to be such a sin.  Part of her wondered if Grell were the devil himself with how bewitching and seductive he was—and Devil or not he was certainly supernatural, and Anya knew no ordinary man would ever come close to holding a candle to him.

Grell returned her gaze from behind his red-rimmed spectacles, his eyes soft but still phosphorescently brilliant.  The pathologist had no idea, but Grell was almost as bewitched by the woman lying beneath him as she was by him.  Her powers fascinated him, she was definitely extraordinary—plus he felt a deeper connection to her, as if he knew she had the ability to understand and accept him for all that he was.  There were not many people in the human or other realm that could, and while Grell usually gave an outwardly appearance of being fun-loving, mischievous, and generally in good spirits; what many didn’t realize was the reaper was often plagued with loneliness.  Such a passionate, combustible heart longed to love and be loved in return; and despite his rabid affections for Sebastian and William, Anya seemed to be his match in every fiery, passionate way.

Grell gently removed his glasses, and gracefully threaded his thick mane through the chain before setting them carefully on the nightstand.  Then his focus returned to Anya, who greeted him with a brush of her nose against his and a few soft kisses along the side of his face.  Her breath quivered across his lips as their eyes met again for a brief moment before falling into a soft and sensual kiss.  Grell exhaled fervently, filling her lungs with his fiery breath while her arms dove into his magnanimous red mane.  His long, wild strands seemed to envelop them, and Anya’s skin tingled and warmed in response to each tresses’ intoxicating brush.

The slightest of whimpers escaped from the good doctor’s lips as they softly tangled with his, while her body began to wriggle impatiently underneath him.  His _scythe_ teased her as it lightly brushed against her inner thigh, enough for her to sample its power and make her body scream for more.  His motor was revved ready to reap and her flesh was ripe for the sow.  She gripped onto him tighter after he trailed a few nips and pecks down her neck, and once his razor sharp teeth stabbed into her so forcefully they drew blood she let out a cry.  His love bite stung so much it caused her eyes to mist; but it was a dangerous, pleasurable pain that was completely intoxicating.  She grasped onto him once their hips began to involuntarily rock against each other, and the more she whimpered and gasped underneath him the more he snarled, his handle on her escalating in force until he snapped his head back and let out a light growl.  Anya quickly reached for his face and held him close as they breathed heavily.  She wanted him more in that moment than she ever had before, but her lust had consumed and muted her to the point she couldn’t quite find the words.  Her glossed over ruby reds gazed up at him to convey her desire which his phosphorescence translated easily.  The doctor nuzzled into him while streaking her fingers through his hair on the side of his head, and the death god finally brought his lips to hers for a spark before his face slowly slinked down her cheek.

Grell exhaled sinfully across her ear which sent tingly chills throughout her body, causing her to lightly quiver in his arms.  With his wild strands completely enveloping her, sultry moans escaped her throat once she finally felt the strength of his divinity enter her body.  The more the death god reaped her flesh the more alive she felt—no other phenomenon ever came close to the emotion she experienced once he reached deep inside of her.  The closeness warmed her heart as his body filled hers; his passion filling an emptiness she didn’t even know was there until he touched it, and only then did she feel truly whole.

Grell hummed lightly upon the doctor’s succulent welcome with her body so warm and fluid.  The sensation fueled his savage lust which caused him to act with greater force upon his delicate prey.  Though fair she was, her body absorbed each impassioned thrust and responded in kind.  While Grell was dominant, she was not totally submissive which kept the reaper intrigued and engaged.  He enjoyed the challenge.  The doctor’s strength and power paralleled no other and far exceeded the bar set by Madame Red in the reaper’s eyes.  This woman whose red eyes danced with the fire and passion Grell admired most, sustained each sinful blow as their bodies collided from above, from below, face to face, and behind.  Not once did her body falter during his violent ravishing, but rather seemed almost insatiable.  The more hits he gave the more she craved, the pain of his divine scythe ripping through her mortal flesh filled her body with pleasure which she expressed with sultry cries out to him into the night.  This supernatural, majestic man was somehow too much, not enough, and perfectly right all at the same time for her—and for him, this woman with the crimson eyes shining bright possessed an unbridled passion that paralleled his own.  Finally, after all of these years he had found a woman worthy of his love—a woman worthy of the color red.

Grell howled up to the heavens as he came with one final thrust pushed deep inside Anya.  She called out his name one last time, and for a moment their bodies trembled in each other’s arms as they caught their breath.  Grell lowered his head until their cheeks lightly touched, and his fiery breath exhaled into her ear.  Anya brushed through his beautiful red hair a few times before stopping at the side of his face, and after a moment Grell raised his head just enough for their eyes to meet.  Anya felt an intense wave of warmth run through her veins as her eyes met with his phosphorescence.  She knew that she was in love with this man, this beautiful man who just days ago found his way into her morgue and turned her world upside down.  She leaned up to gently touch her lips to his which resulted in a tender and affectionate kiss.  Both of their bodies exhausted from their passionate exertions, she felt Grell’s weight relax on top of her as he sighed into their kiss.  Anya let her hands get lost in his thick red mane whose many strands had become dampened with sweat.  Her heart was glowing and fluttering inside her chest, and even though time seemed to stand still she wanted to cling onto this moment forever.  His lips were perfect, so soft and tender as they lightly caressed hers and his breath filled her lungs and danced with her soul.  In the arms of a death god she found true love.

The couple lay cuddled, spooned together with the doctor’s back gently resting against the reaper’s chest.  Grell let his fingertips lightly caress up and down Anya’s arms for a few minutes before wrapping his arms around her.  She reached for his hand and stretched it out in front of her, watching as she wove her fingers in between his.  She then kissed his hand before retreating their arms back toward her torso.  The reaper and doctor rested in silence for a while, and Grell had almost drifted off to sleep until Anya broke the silence with a question Grell dreaded to answer.

“Grell…?”  Anya softly began.

“Yes, Kenzy Dear?”

“Who is Madame Red?”

Grell’s heart dropped in his chest.  _Damn that Bassy_ , he briefly thought to himself, though deep down he knew this would have to come out eventually.  For the story of Madame Red and Grell’s dark past would be a true test to the love growing between the pathologist and the reaper.  It was time to see if the noble heart of Dr. Anya Kensington could forgive an unforgivable past.

Grell let out a deep sigh and lied in silence for a moment as he stared up toward the ceiling.  Anya rolled over onto her other side so she was facing him.  She was concerned and could sense a somber heaviness surrounding her beloved reaper.  She could not possibly imagine or prepare herself for what he would say next.

“I can tell you about Madame Red, my dear… but first, tell me…” Grell began, still looking up to the ceiling.  Anya slightly furrowed her brows in confusion and sensed the seriousness of the moment.  She simply continued to look toward Grell, awaiting the rest of his story.  He finally turned toward the good doctor and looked into her eyes.

“Have you heard of Jack the Ripper?”


End file.
